Just Keep Swimming
by intjsherlocked
Summary: The Winchesters have had their fair share of motel pools over the years.


**A/N:** I read somewhere that the one thing Supernatural hasn't done yet is a motel pool scene. Then, I thought, wouldn't it be fun to read several of Sam and Dean's greatest moments in motel swimming pools? This was the result - all of the missing motel pool scenes throughout the years, preseries to season 14.

* * *

 **Preseries - Dean 4, Sam 5 months**

"Again, Daddy!"

Dean's laughter echoed through the indoor pool as his father lifted him from the water like an airplane before skimming him across the surface of the water. He kicked his legs furiously, as though he were swimming competitively, splashing the water across the pool. Fortunately, there wasn't anyone near him - if there was, they would have gotten a face-full of pool water.

"And… takeoff in three, two, one," John said, pulling Dean back slightly with each countdown before swinging him back into the air above the water.

"In a couple of years, you'll be playing out there too, Sammy," Mary said, smiling down at her son. He was sleeping, cradled in her arms like a rag doll.

They had driven out five hours to visit some of John's old friends in Missouri. The ride had been a long one for Dean, who was restless after only twenty minutes, and Mary persuaded John to let them stop at a motel for the night. The said motel had a large indoor pool, which had made Dean's entire day.

"Daddy! Do it again!" Dean begged, splashing the water with his hands.

"One more time, and then how about I teach you how to swim?" John asked, picking his son up again.

Dean's eyes were wider than quarters and he beamed at his father. "Can I?"

"You'll be swimming in the deep end by tomorrow," John promised, sending a quick smile at Mary. He set Dean down in the shallow end and waded over to Mary, leaning on the cement edge of the pool.

"I can hold Sammy for a bit, if you want to swim," John offered.

"It's okay. I like watching you two," Mary said warmly.

John watched her for a moment, water dripping down his nose. "You're beautiful," he said suddenly, smiling up at her.

"Stop it," Mary countered, tugging at her hair. She'd thrown it into a ponytail and was wearing nothing but sweats and an old tee shirt.

"I mean it," John said, just as Dean shouted for his father to come back and play with him.

"Go teach him to swim," Mary said, a smile breaking across her face. John obliged and turned around to his son, who was bouncing up and down in the water with the energy that only a four year old could have.

Mary leaned down and kissed Sammy's forehead. He sighed softly in his sleep, his face content.

This was what she wanted. She didn't want to leave hunting; she wanted a family. Two children, a home, and a loving husband - this was her dream.

"Mommy! Watch me!" Dean said happily, doggy paddling through the water with John's hands keeping him afloat. "I'm swimming!"

"You're a natural, Dean!" Mary called back to him. Her heart felt like it was soaring; there was nothing, absolutely nothing, that could compare to the joy of family.

* * *

 **Preseries - Dean 7, Sam 3**

"Dad, can we go to the pool now?"

John sighed and scrubbed his face with his hand. Dean had been persistently asking to swim in the motel pool for at least an hour now, and the phrase "I'll take you when I'm finished with my work" seemed to be going in one ear and out of the other. John ignored the question and flipped some papers over on the motel desk, trying to find a pattern, any pattern, that would help him with the hunt.

"What's this?" Dean asked, holding up a sketch that a witness had drawn. It was what seemed to be a creature that was half zombie, half slug, and John couldn't figure out what it was for the life of him.

"It's a drawing," John said shortly, flipping through his pages.

There _had_ to be a connection to the demon he was searching for. Everyone who had been killed by this strange monster had a sixth month old child. That couldn't be a coincidence, could it?  
 **"** Dad, can I play with this?"

John turned to see Dean twirling his gun in his fingers.

"Dean!" he snapped. "Don't touch that!" He ripped the gun out of Dean's hands, and immediately regretted it - no doubt his son would now be upset and throw a fit.

On the contrary, Dean didn't seem to be perturbed in the slightest. He took off and began to run circles around the motel room aimlessly. Sammy, who had been quietly watching the television, saw his older brother running around and joined in, trailing behind despite how hard he pumped his short little legs.

John closed his eyes and rubbed his temples at the pattering of bare feet on the carpet. He fought the urge to tell them to stop; after all, he could only hope that this would wear them out and Dean would stop asking to go swimming.

"You're It!" Dean suddenly cried out, tapping Sammy on the shoulder and running towards the bathroom. The door slammed shut, Dean giggling from behind it.

"Dean!" Sammy pleaded. "I don't wanna be It!"

"That's what you get for being slooooow!" Dean drew out the word mockingly and Sammy only pounded at the door harder.

"Dean! I wanna come in!"

John went back to his papers, poring over the witness's accounts and trying to ignore the loud voices. The creature murdered by sucking the breath out of its victims. Nothing John had ever seen in his short hunting experience resembled this.

Dean suddenly blasted out of the bathroom, charging past his brother and coming to an abrupt stop at his father.

"Dad, ready to go swimming?" His freckled face looked up at John with hope.

There was no way John could continue working with Dean pestering him like this. He sighed, pushing his papers back.

"Yeah. Let's go now," he said, and went to his duffel bag to dig out their worn swimsuits.

Ten minutes later they were at the poolside. Dean didn't hesitate at all and jumped right into the shallow end. Sammy took a seat on the stairs of the pool, squatting so that the water reached his belly button and no higher.

"Dad, jump in!" Dean yelled, beckoning for his father to join him.

The images of the dead bodies, the sketches of the slug-like creature, the terrified witnesses, and the papers sitting on the motel desk flashed through John's mind, but he ignored the stress that was pounding a headache into his skull and waded into the water.

"Tag! You're It, Dad!" Dean told him excitedly, swimming away as quickly as he could and looking over his shoulder to see if his father was pursuing him.

The hunt could wait, John decided, and he chased his son halfheartedly through the pool.

But he had only been "It" for thirty seconds when his phone rang. It could be a new victim, it could be Bobby, it could the police - anything more important than a game of Tag.

"Hold on, Dean," John said, and after glancing to see that Sammy was still sitting on the pool stair and splashing the water with his hands happily, he picked up the phone.

"Hey, John?" It was Pastor Jim. "I found out what the creature is - the one you're looking for."

John breathed a sigh of relief. "Great. Thanks, Jim. What'd you find?"

His friend relayed the information to him, and to John's relief, the creature could be killed with a single silver bullet. Even better, Jim had found out where he thought the creature was camping out.

"Dad? You're still It," Dean said, a bit uncertainly, from the shallow end.

John cupped a hand over the phone. "Dean, I've got to leave for a job. I need you and Sammy to get out and dry off."

Disappointment was visible on Dean's face as he immediately obeyed his father, even stooping to help Sammy out of the pool. He meandered with his younger brother to the towels and, after giving Sammy one, wrapped himself up in it and returned to his father.

"Is it a long job, Dad?" Dean asked dispiritedly, following by his side as they walked back to the motel room.

"I'm not sure. I'll drop you two off at Uncle Bobby's," John said distractedly, thinking of silver bullets. He only had twenty left; he'd have to get some more soon. Hopefully Bobby would have some that he could grab when he dropped the boys off.

"Can we finish Tag when you get back? I like the pool here. It's fun."

The words made John stop short as they entered their motel room.

"We won't be coming back to this motel, sport," John told Dean, bending slightly so that they were at eye level. "At the next motel, I'll play with you."

"Okay," Dean said meekly, but as he spoke, John felt a pang of guilt in his chest - there was no mistaking the despondency that crossed Dean's face.

* * *

 **Preseries - Dean 10, Sam 6**

"Sammy! Watch my cannonball!" Dean told his brother, climbing out of the water. He took a running start before leaping majestically into the air and curling himself up into a ball. Sam watched with wonder as his brother splashed into the deep end, spraying the pool water high into the night sky.

They were swimming at midnight. The pool closed at nine, but Dean had convinced Sam that it would be fun to break the rules a little.

After all, their dad wouldn't be back for another day, and there was no way that he would know.

The bells of the nearby church chimed that it was exactly midnight just as Dean surfaced. They were clear and loud, ringing through the silent night with a graceful echo. Sam listened to them, fascinated, as Dean climbed out and performed another cannonball.

"Dean! Look at the stars!" Sam implored. He floated on his back, just like Dean taught him, and watched the expansive night sky.

Dean joined him, floating in the waves that slowly dissipated from his last cannonball. The chiming of the bells had stopped, leaving the night with nothing except for the chirping of crickets.

"There's the North Star," Dean said suddenly, pointing up at the sky.

"How'd you know that?" Sam asked, impressed.

"Dad taught me."

They floated in silence for another minute.

"Dad's not around much lately," Sam said, a hint of sadness in his voice. "I want him to swim with us. Remember that time we went to the ocean and he brought us out into the waves?"

"I remember," Dean said. "Dad's just busy because he works so hard. He does a lot for his job."

"I like this town," Sam said, still watching the night sky. "The church bells are pretty. And the sky is so full of stars."

They were out in the countryside and there was little light pollution. The Milky Way lit up a white streak across the sky and many more stars than usual were visible; small pinpricks of light that were punched through the black heavens like holes to another world.

"Let's leave our mark here," Dean said suddenly, and he swam towards the edge of the pool. Sam waited to see what his brother was doing, and he frowned when Dean returned with a knife.

"Dad said to use that only in emergencies," Sam said uncertainly.

"You're such a princess. You're already breaking the rules because we're swimming at midnight," Dean pointed out, and Sam fell silent at that.

"Let's carve into the diving board," Dean said after a moment, and they swam into the deep end.

Dean went first, taking the knife to dig the DW into the bottom of the diving board. Sam watched carefully, taking note of how his older brother held onto the edge of the pool with his left hand, treading water, and carving with his right.

Once Dean had finished carving his initials and handed the knife to Sam, he was in the same position, and scratched at the bottom of the diving board a messy SW.

Dean took the knife back once Sam had finished and placed it on the edge of the pool. They both admired their handiwork for a minute before Dean climbed out of the pool.

"We should go to bed," he said. "It's getting late."

Sam followed his brother back into the motel, glancing backwards at the pool, which shimmered softly in the moonlight. Maybe someday he'd find all of the places they'd carved their initials into. He could make a map out of it, pushing pins into every place they'd been, and tying strings from one pin to the other - like their dad did on the wall sometimes.

It would be a really cool web of their history, he decided proudly, trailing behind Dean as his brother unlocked their motel room.

* * *

 **Preseries - Dean 13, Sam 9**

Sam plodded into the motel pool of the week with a grimace. It hadn't been cleaned in a while - dead bugs floated in the water - and it was crowded with other kids. But they were in Nevada, and the temperatures were soaring near a hundred. Dean insisted it was better to be in bug juice than to boil in your own sweat.

Unfortunately for Sam, Dean had decided to make new friends with some of the other boys at the pool. Sam was stuck on his own, standing in the stagnant shallow water.

"Hi."

Sam turned to the voice. A mousy boy was approaching him. He was shorter than Sam, maybe a year younger, and his brown eyes were the color of rich soil.

"I'm Jacob. Want to hang out?"

"Sure," Sam said instinctually, grateful for the unexpected companion.

He'd encountered many kids like this over the years. Kids who were staying at motels for long periods of time, just like him and Dean, often weren't very shy about approaching other kids. It was second nature - if you were in the pool with another kid, then you were automatically potential friends.

"I'm Sam," Sam added. "What do you want to do?"  
 **"** I'm looking for the ghost of Nancy Nyman," Jacob said impressively, raising his eyebrows at Sam. "I bet you didn't hear about the stories."

Sam told him that he hadn't.

"This motel is supposed to be haunted, according to my older brother," Jacob said, nodding at one of the boys that Dean was hanging out with. "Nancy drowned in here after her husband pushed her in. She hit her head and didn't wake up."

Sam could feel his pulse accelerating. His dad told him all about ghosts, and even though Sam hadn't been on a salt and burn yet, he knew exactly how to do it. Ghosts were repelled by iron and salt, and to get rid of them, their corpse needed to be burned.

"Nancy appears when you open your eyes underwater," Jacob continued. "Then she kills you by gripping your throat and choking you to death!"

Sam took a glance around. "Should we warn other people?" he asked in a low voice.

"No! Nancy will find out and kill us," Jacob said in an equally low voice.

Sam could feel adrenaline rising in him. This was it, this would be his first hunt. His dad would return to the motel and see that his youngest son had done his first salt and burn, entirely on his own. The thought made him swell with pride and his thoughts raced wildly.

"I know what to do," Sam whispered. "I'll get the rock salt. We need to find Nancy's corpse and burn it."

Jacob's eyes turned down in confusion for a moment before he nodded. "Sounds good."

Sam slipped out of the water to go to their room and grab the rock salt - hopefully, without Dean noticing.

For the first time, Sam was pleased that his brother had abandoned him for new friends, because Dean didn't notice him enter the pool area, lugging a sack of salt. Sam dragged it to the edge where Jacob was waiting.

"What does that do?" Jacob asked, his eyes wide.

"It protects us from Nancy," Sam told him importantly. "My brother knows all about this stuff. If we pour the salt into the pool, it should keep Nancy away until we can burn her corpse."

He ripped open the bag and was only a few seconds into pouring the contents into the water when Dean's yell reached his ears.

"Sammy! What're you doing?"

Sam jumped, lifting the salt up from where he was pouring it into the pool like it had burned him. "There's a ghost, Dean, Jacob told me about it. She kills people when they open their eyes underwater-"

"You're such an idiot, Sammy," Dean said angrily, yanking the salt away. "Dad wouldn't have us stay in a haunted motel."

The words resonated in Sam's ears. _Of course_ their father would make sure they were safe before leaving for his hunt. He felt a bit foolish now, looking at the salt swirling in the pool and Jacob's wide eyes.

"Jeez, you're gullible," Dean snapped, taking the salt away. "Besides, it's a saltwater pool. A ghost wouldn't be in it."

That also had not occurred to Sam. He hung his head, unable to meet Dean's nor Jacob's eyes.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I really thought there was a ghost," Sam admitted.

Dean's face softened. "Actually, I might be able to talk Dad into letting you go on the next salt and burn."

It felt like the world had suddenly lifted off of his shoulders.

"Really?" Sam asked excitedly. "A real salt and burn, Dean? You're not just gonna have me stay in the car while you and Dad do all of the work?"

"Yeah. Dad and I were talking about letting you come," Dean said, leading the way back to their room with the bag of salt in his hands. "I'll try to convince him."

Sometimes, even the embarrassing situations could be resolved, Sam thought happily as he entered the motel room, looking with pleasure at the rock salt guns that were leaning against the back wall. He'd make his dad proud.

* * *

 **Preseries - Dean 16, Sam 12**

Dean crept around the back of the motel with Angela's hand in his.

"Dean, slow down!" Angela giggled as he pulled her towards the gate of the pool. It was eleven at night - Dean's curfew - but not that his dad would notice he was out of his bed. John had passed out, drinking, an hour ago. Sam had gone to bed at that point as well, so Dean saw no risk in sneaking out to swim with the really cute chick that he'd met that week.

They slid into the water quietly. It was Alabama, so the pool water wasn't cold but lukewarm like bathwater.

"Why'd you come to Alabama?" Angela asked after a minute. They were in the shallow end of the pool, cuddled companionably in the water. Dean pulled a strand of her hair off of her face.

"My dad's job. He fixes cars," Dean said, then added, "Usually antique cars. That's why we travel around a lot; he's a specialist."

"How long will you be staying?"

Dean looked into her pale face. She was blonde, curvy, and had the bluest eyes of anyone he had ever met. Her features were delicate and small, and her lips were pursed in that way that made Dean want to kiss her.

"A week more, maybe two," Dean said softly, drawing in closer to her. "I wish it was longer."

Angela's lips turned down. "I've never met a guy like you, Dean."

"I've never met a girl like you," he replied smoothly. He'd had much practice courting girls and he knew immediately that this was the right thing to say, because he could practically feel Angela's pulse quickening, they were so close together.

Clouds shrouded the sky and moon, keeping the atmosphere dark, but Dean didn't mind as he leaned in to kiss her. It added to the ambience, he decided, pressing his lips against her cool ones.

Dean was just pulling away from her after a solid ten seconds of kissing when he heard fast footsteps very close to him. He whipped his head around, expecting to see some sort of monster hurtling through the night, only to recognize the silhouette that was desperately trying to leave the pool area.

"Sam?" Dean said, surprised at first, and then angry. "What the _hell_ are you doing out here?"

Sam stopped from where he was trying to unlatch the gate and turned around reluctantly to face his brother. "I'm sorry, Dean, I didn't mean to!"

"You didn't mean to be sitting out here in the dark while I hung out with Angela?" Dean asked, softening his tone only because he'd learned girls seemed to like it when he treated his brother kindly.

"No! I was out here before you came!" Sam said, the words tumbling out of his mouth. "I came out because Dad was drinking, and I couldn't sleep, and I just wanted out of the motel room - you know?"  
Dean closed his eyes. His brother had been here the entire time he and Angela snuggled and kissed. The thought was revolting.

"I thought I would just wait it out," Sam continued, "until you guys left. I didn't want to embarrass you, Dean, I'm sorry! But then you started kissing and I panicked-"

"Okay, I get it," Dean interrupted. He shook his head with mingled mortification and irritation. "Go to bed, Sammy."

Sam didn't need to be told twice. He bolted from the pool area and quickly melted into the shadows of the moonless night.

"Sorry," he told Angela in the restored silence. "My little brother… he doesn't mean to be awkward; it's just in his nature, you know?" He grinned at Angela and was pleased to see that she was smiling.

"I have a little brother too," Angela said. "He would've reacted the same way."

With that, Dean leaned in and kissed her again in the rippling pool water.

* * *

 **Preseries - Dean 19, Sam 15**

"I dare you to jump in the pool," Dean said lazily as he and Sam lounged on the motel bed.

Sam sat up. "What? No way! It's freezing out!"

They were staying in Middle-of-Nowhere Town in Minnesota. Their dad, Uncle Bobby, and Pastor Jim were hunting a nasty Tulpa, and even Dean wasn't allowed to go on this hunt. In the meantime, he and Sam were left at the motel in the snowy town, which was forecasted to get another foot of snow that night. The temperatures were in the thirties, so everything was wet and sticky in the town.

"The ice is thin. Jump in and out," Dean said, pulling back the curtain to look at the outdoor pool of the motel.

Sam snorted. "Why would I do that? Besides, I have homework to do." He gestured at the papers in front of him.

"Yeah, that you haven't touched in an hour," Dean pointed out. "Do it."

"You're just bored, Dean. _You_ jump in the pool."

"I'll let you have shotgun for the next month if you jump in the pool right now."

That made Sam pause. Shotgun in the Impala was the luxury seat of the car; whoever had it had the power. At least, that's how Sam had viewed it since his earliest memories of the car.

"I get shotgun for the next month and a half," Sam amended.

"Deal," Dean said immediately, and within two minutes they were out in the blustery cold.

"Take off your shirt," Dean advised. "And you have to submerge completely for it to count."

Sam shivered in the open air, pulling off his pants as well so that he was clad in only his boxers.

"Two months?" he asked, holding his body against the chilly wind.

"The deal was a month and a half," Dean reminded him.

Sam eyed the pool warily. The owners hadn't bothered to put a cover on it, maybe because it was a dirt-cheap motel and they didn't care. There was a thin sheet of ice on the surface of the pool that would break instantly the moment he jumped on it.

"Be ready with the towel as soon as I get out," Sam told his brother, and Dean grinned, holding the warm towel open.

Sam wiggled his toes, brushing them against the ice of the pool's surface.

Shit, it looked cold.

Before he could talk himself out of jumping he was in the air, and then crashing through the ice a bit painfully.

The water felt like it was burning against his skin, it was so cold. He gasped, bubbles escaping his mouth, and surfaced wildly, paddling like a madman for the ladder of the pool. Dean was laughing his head off, but he had the towel wide open for Sam to run to.

"That - was - freezing," Sam said, his teeth chattering violently as he hugged himself with the towel. "Can we crank the heat in the room?"

"Yeah," Dean said, still laughing. "I can't believe you actually jumped in there, dude."

Sam grinned at his brother. "I can't believe that you have to be in the backseat for the next month and a half," he said cheerfully, heading for the bathroom to take a hot shower that would surely be like fire on his freezing toes.

The smile slid of Dean's face so quickly that Sam laughed, shutting the door quickly and turning on the hot water.

* * *

 **Preseries - Dean 22, Sam 18**

Early morning swims had always been Sam's favorite. The air was cooled off, the water was refreshing, and there was never anyone else in the pool.

The sun had just risen when Sam approached the motel pool. He dove in cleanly, cutting the water with his arms. Underwater, the blue tones were dyed a slight orange by the bright early morning light, and he opened his eyes even though it stung slightly.

He winced as he surfaced because the chlorine felt like it was eating into his leg. He'd been injured on a wendigo hunt the day before and the wound protested at the pool water seeping into it.

This morning was a bit different, though. Usually he headed inside after thirty minutes and ate breakfast with his father and brother.

Not today. He couldn't do it today. Not while knowing what was to come.

Three days ago he'd received an email from Stanford, letting him know that he was accepted with a full ride. Sam had thought that would be the most difficult part - getting into college, especially where his education had been spotty. Now, he realized, what would be most difficult was telling his dad and Dean that he was leaving.

Sam steeled his breath as he swam through the water. It wouldn't go over well, that much he was sure. The most he could hope for was that his dad wouldn't disinherit him, he thought with slight amusement.

On second thought, his dad disinheriting him didn't seem altogether unlikely.

Sam startled at the sound of someone else coming into the pool area. He didn't bother turning around; it was probably another early riser who had come to do laps.

"Sam?" The voice belong to Dean. Sam stopped swimming and turned around, breast-stroking to the edge.

"You're up early," Sam noted.

Dean shrugged. "Couldn't sleep," he said, sitting on the edge of the pool with his feet in the water. "Why are you up so early? What are you, eighty?"  
Leave it to Dean to associate early morning swimming with the elderly. Although, Sam acknowledged, it was mostly seniors in the pool if it was before nine in the morning.

"I like swimming early. It starts the day off, you know?" Sam said, treading the water.

Dean shook his head. "Whatever. I'm getting breakfast. You want something?"  
 **"** Nah. I'm not hungry yet."

There was a pause.

"Dad found another hunt," Dean said after a moment. "Over in Utah. He thinks it's a vetala but he's not quite sure. You up to leaving tonight? If we leave by noon we'll have plenty of time to make it there before dark."

Sam caught his breath. Another hunt. It wasn't an ideal time to tell his brother and father that he'd made it into Stanford, but what other choice did he have? There was no way he was telling them before or during the car ride - the tension that would be in the Impala was unimaginable - so he'd have to tell them tonight.

He couldn't keep putting it off.

"Great," Sam said dully. "Vetalas are my favorite."

"Yeah, well, it's in Salt Lake City, so at least we won't be in the middle of nowhere," Dean said. "At least we can hustle some locals. You up for several games of pool tonight?" He grinned, looking at Sam with the expression that he couldn't wait to screw people over. Sam tried to return the smile but all that he could feel was pressure on his chest.

How would Dean react to Sam's announcement that he was leaving them for Stanford?

Dean took a close look at him. "You okay?"

Sam shook himself out of his stupor. Against his will he could feel heat rising in his eyes, and if there was one thing a Winchester never did, it was cry. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. I just…"

"What?" Dean persisted.

Sam hesitated. He couldn't tell Dean, not yet. He couldn't bear to see the disappointment on his brother's face. He didn't want the car ride in the Impala to be strained. He forced a smile on his face, one that could pass as real.

"Sorry, Dean. Just thinking about the hunt," he said, and climbed out of the pool to dry off.

Maybe there was a small chance that his dad and brother would support his decision. Sam walked with Dean back to the motel room, hoping that somehow, some way, he would still be on good terms with his family.

* * *

 **Stanford Era - Dean 25, Sam 21**

Sam was sitting on the edge of a pool, at a party of all places, when his brother called.

It had been a year since he'd even seen Dean, and they hadn't talked since. He hadn't spoken to his dad once since he'd left for Stanford, and the fact that Dean was calling him at ten at night was concerning.

"Is that your brother?" Jess asked, looking at the caller ID with surprise.

"Yeah," Sam said, sliding his legs out of the pool.

"Pick it up," she encouraged. Sam looked at Jess, slightly bewildered, before exiting the pool area to accept the call.

"Hello?" he asked hesitantly. Immediately he tensed, wary; the voice that answered was not Dean's.

"Hello. I need to speak to Agent Perry." The voice was gruff, deep, and unfamiliar. Sam was taken aback for a few seconds before he remembered to answer.

"Speaking," he said quickly.

"You're on speaker phone, Agent Perry. I have a question about one of your agents who's here in Concord right now. His name is Page…?"

The statement was a question. Sam was confused for the slightest of moments before falling into the role.

"Yeah. Agent Page. He's on the Concord case right now. Is there an issue?"

This time, the gruff voice was replaced with Dean's voice. Sam blinked at the sound of it; it had been so long since he'd spoken to his brother.

"Hey, Agent Perry. The sheriff here just wanted to clear things up and make sure that I'm the right agent to be on the job. There was a bit of confusion because there was supposed to be another agent coming, apparently." Dean's voice was easy-going and smooth.

The gruff voice returned to the phone. "If you could just confirm who is on this case, that would be great."

"Yes, Sheriff," Sam said quickly. He took a glance backwards; some of his friends, including Jess, were watching him curiously. "Agent Page is supposed to be on the case. There was a slight mishap back at the office and two different departments were assigned it accidentally. I'm very sorry for any inconveniences."

"Thank you very much," the gruff voice said, and before Sam could figure out a way to say something to his brother, the phone call ended. Sam stared down at the phone, his fingers cold.

Many times before he'd seen his father pose as an FBI agent, but he and Dean had always been too young. Many times their father had had to call Bobby when he was in a fix, so that Bobby could play the FBI as well and assure the suspicious cop that their dad was who he said he was. It was strange knowing that Dean was using those tactics now.

He returned to the pool and his friends, who were waiting for him to explain.

"What did your brother say?" Jess asked, and based on her tone, she hadn't been able to hear what Sam was saying. He breathed a sigh of relief because he wasn't quite sure how he could explain the fact that he was pretending to be an FBI agent.

"He was in the area, I guess, and thought he'd call," Sam lied quickly. "Just catching up quickly." Sam dipped his feet back into the illuminated pool water. The low music drifted over and he realized with amusement that it was one of Dean's favorite bands, Guns 'n' Roses. Strange that the song should be playing right now. Sam thought vaguely that it was a relief the music was at a low volume or the gruff sheriff wouldn't have believed him to be an FBI agent.

"You should invite him to drop a visit," Jess offered, squeezing Sam's shoulder. "I'd love to meet him."

"I asked him, but he's just passing through for a job," Sam said briefly. He leaned in and kissed Jess. "Maybe I'll get together with him soon."

Hearing Dean's voice had brought back memories of all of the years they had grown up together with often times no one but each other to talk to. Sam realized how much he would have liked Dean to stop by, but that would also mean seeing his father.

Sam's phone vibrated a minute later. Sam picked it up, Jess's head leaning on his shoulder to see as well. It was a very short message, only one sentence.

 **Thanks, Sammy.**

Jess turned her head to look up at him. "Sam, you should get together with him. It's obvious you both miss each other."

Sam shook his head. "Maybe someday," he said, staring down at the phone, mesmerized slightly by the message on the screen. "At least, I hope so."

* * *

 **Season 2, after "Everybody Loves a Clown" - Dean 28, Sam 24**

"How about Rock-Paper-Scissors?" Sam asked desperately as he and Dean tramped across the parking lot to unlock their motel room.

Dean gave him a devious smile. "Whoever gets in the bathroom first gets first shower." He grinned more at Sam's exasperated expression. "It's fair, dude."

They were coming back from the most disgusting hunt they'd ever been on. Dean still wasn't quite sure what the creature was - some kind of ogre thing - but the important thing was that they had killed it.

Unfortunately, killing it had also made the creature explode into a shower of mucus and mud. Both Sam and Dean were drenched in monster bodily fluids that stunk of sweat and feces.

Yeah, definitely the grossest hunt he'd ever been on, Dean decided, as he slid the key into the door. His hair was sticking to his skin with the snot-like substance. Sam looked miserable, but also tense, and Dean knew his brother was preparing to run into the bathroom to get it first.

The second that the door clicked open, Dean had pushed Sam aside. Sam was ready for the offense and launched forward, tackling Dean to the floor and springing up onto his feet. Dean rolled and grabbed Sam's feet, taking him down with him. They tumbled towards the bathroom door in a mess of limbs, punching at each other in desperation to get the shower first.

Dean won, just like he knew he had expected. Triumphantly he pushed Sam back, slammed the door, and locked it. He breathed a sigh of relief and didn't waste any time in turning on the shower.

Well, twisting the knob for the shower - water didn't come out. Dean frowned and tried again to no avail; it was as though the water had been shut off for their room.

"Son of a bitch," he muttered, kicking at the tub.

He twisted it again. Not even one drop of water came out.

Dean swung open the door to see a disgruntled and dirty Sam sitting, waiting, for the shower.

"There's no water," Dean said brusquely. "Of all the times for the damn shower to not work-"  
 **"** There's no water?" Sam asked, dumbfounded. If Dean wasn't drenched in slimy phlegm he would've laughed at the expression on his brother's face.

"None," Dean confirmed. He scowled at the bathroom. "We can switch motels, or see if we can find a gym to shower in."

"Or we can go swimming," Sam said suddenly, a grin breaking across his face.

"What? In the motel?" Dean asked, taken aback.

"Yeah."

Dean didn't have to think twice. "Hell, yeah," he agreed, grabbing his shampoo. "Bath it is."

They entered the outdoor pool area of the motel. It was late, which was a relief, because Dean doubted that the motel employees would let them swim in their disgusting condition.

"Let's make it quick," Sam muttered, swiping some of the viscous fluid off of his hands. "The water's going to get dirty quickly."

They both stripped to their boxes, leaving their clothing in a heap on the cement. Dean made a mental note to take a trip to the laundromat the next day and then dove into the water.

He used a heaping of shampoo, scrubbing the mucus off. It dissipated in the chlorine water, which quickly became soapy from the copious amounts of shampoo they were using.

"This is a first," Sam said as they scrubbed themselves off in the water. He shook his shaggy head and flecks of soap went flying.

"Next time there's an ogre-creature hunt, we're skipping it," Dean said firmly, running his hands through his hair to remove any last bits of the exploded monster. He found a large piece of relatively solid snot and chucked it at Sam, who ducked and swore.

"You're such a jerk, Dean," he said, looking with disdain at the chunk of slime that was floating in the water next to him.

"Bitch," Dean said instinctively, leering at his brother.

Times like this, cheerful moments with Sam, helped him to forget about his dad's death - and what his dad had told him right before dying about Sam.

* * *

 **Season 5, after "Dark Side of the Moon" - Dean 31, Sam 27**

Sam pushed back his hair from his forehead and grimaced at the clock. It was nearing seven in the evening, and he hadn't seen Dean all day.

Strangely enough, his brother wasn't drinking at the town bar. The Impala was still in the motel parking lot and the nearest restaurant - let alone bar - was at least six miles away. There was no way Dean had walked that far, especially considering it was drizzling out.

He contemplated searching for Dean and getting him to come inside for dinner. Sam had picked up a pepperoni pizza and it had long gone cold.

Then again, Sam wasn't very hungry either. Being shot and killed usually did that to your appetite.

After another thirty minutes, he couldn't stand the silence much longer. Dean might hate talking about feelings, but Sam needed things resolved, or he wouldn't be able to sleep. Not that he had been sleeping much - it was a bit hard when Lucifer was constantly visiting him in his nightmares and trying to persuade him to say yes.

Dean wasn't at the vending machine, nor was he in the dumpy little arcade. Sam wandered to the gated pool area and almost missed the figure sitting on the edge of the pool with a beer in hand.

Sam silently entered and sat down four feet away, sticking his own feet into the pool. He didn't bother rolling up his jeans and let them get wet.

"Dean, I really am sorry." He paused. "I, uh, got a pizza. If you're hungry."

No answer.

"Look, it's nothing personal, Dean," Sam tried again. "I know that my version of heaven wasn't exactly what yours was-"

"'Wasn't exactly'? Dude, your heaven is literally my hell," Dean said coldly.

"But maybe if we just talked-"

Again, Dean interrupted him. "Stop. I need to be alone. There's nothing you can say right now that would make me feel any differently about this."

Sam exhaled slowly. "Okay. I just want you to know that I'm sorry."

Dean was quiet before talking. "I don't care." His words were final and cut through the evening air like a blade. Sam got up, his jeans dripping with water.

He remembered a time that they were brothers. Yeah, they fought, and insulted each other, punched, kicked, gave the silent treatment. Last year, that's when things changed.

That's when Sam realized what it was like, for the first time in his life, to be on the receiving end of a look of pure hatred from Dean.

* * *

 **Season 8, after "Pac-Man Fever" - Dean 34, Sam 30**

Dean woke up to the sound of quiet footsteps moving across the room. He shifted awake immediately; years of experience had taught him never to ignore sounds in his room. His hand instinctively went to the gun under his pillow, at the ready for whatever the sound was.

But one glimpse at the silhouette moving in front of the window told him it was Sam.

"Sam?" he said. "What are you doing?" He turned on the bedside lamp and surveyed his brother suspiciously.

Sam paused like he'd been caught, wincing at the sudden warmth of light. It took Dean a moment to realize he was holding a towel and wearing only shorts.

"Are you going _swimming_?" Dean asked incredulously.

Sam's stance turned defensive. "Yeah. Do you have a problem with that?"

Dean threw back the covers. "Yeah, I have a problem with that. You're fighting the Trials, man, you should be resting - not swimming at-" He paused to glance at the clock. "At one in the morning!"

Sam's expression turned stubborn. It was the same expression that Dean had resented for many years, especially when they were younger, because it meant Sam intended to defy whatever Dean said.

"Look, Dean, I would've told you, but I knew you'd react like this," Sam said, his voice level. He raised his hands slightly in the air. "I won't be long."

"Hang on. Fair enough, you knew I wouldn't like this," Dean said, standing up. "But why the hell are you so bent on going for a swim? We haven't used the motel pools since…" He didn't finish. Since before Sam had gone to Hell.

Sam's mouth turned up, like he was about to smile, and then back down. "It doesn't matter."

"No, really, why? I mean, you've got the chills, and you're hacking up blood, so why do you want to go swimming? Of all things?" Dean was genuinely baffled and slightly irritated by the Sam's unwillingness to share.

Sam sighed. "I want to swim _because_ of the Trials. Ever since I did the second Trial, I just feel…" He trailed off before clearing his throat. "I feel dirty. Contaminated. I mean, I think that these Trials are purifying me from the inside, but right now I just feel like crap, and-"

"And you thought the cool water would be a friggin' remedy or something to this," Dean finished. Sam shrugged in agreement.

"Did you get any sleep at all?" Dean asked after a moment. Sam's hesitancy told him that his brother had not. "Look, you need to get your strength up if you want to complete the damn Trials of God, Sam."

Sam's defensive, stubborn expression returned. "We'll be back at the bunker tomorrow, Dean, and you'll just force me to rest then. This is why I was sneaking out - I just needed to be alone for a while."

The words stung at first until Dean took a closer look at his brother, who was ashen and looked quite ill. He had hardly given Sam any independence since he'd killed that hellhound.

"Fine," Dean said tersely. "But I'm coming too."

Sam rolled his eyes. "I'm not a little kid."

"I know. But I feel like going for a nighttime swim," Dean said casually, grasping the motel door.

They entered the pool area. It seemed like a lifetime ago that Dean had swam with his brother. Sure, they'd sat on the edge on a hot day, and there was that one time they'd used a pool as a bath after a particularly nasty hunt, but the last time they had really swam together? It must've been before Sam left for Stanford.

Sam took the lead, walking straight down the steps and submerging in the water. He became a shadow in the pool, his form rippling beneath the waves as he swam silently towards the deep end. Dean followed suit after stripping off his shirt.

The water was surprisingly cold, but suddenly Dean understood completely why Sam had wanted to swim. The chilly water cleared his head and made him feel light, clean, and detached from the rest of the world. It felt like it the sheer temperature of the water was cleansing his skin and he relished in the feeling.

Sam said nothing but continued to swim back and forth like an otter through the pool. He stopped abruptly at the edge to cough suddenly, and his back seemed to thrust forward and back painfully with the effort. Dean tensed, preparing to go to his brother's side at any moment. He watched his brother quickly wipe the evidence of blood off of his arm.

Sam looked over to Dean with a defeated look on his face. The intent was clear; now that he'd coughed up blood while swimming, surely Dean would force him to get out and dry off.

Dean resisted the urge to do just that.

"Remember that time you got shotgun for several weeks after I dared you to jump in the pool in the winter?" he said instead. The memory was random and even surprised him as it came out of his mouth but it served its purpose - it drove the subject away from the Trials.

A rare smile crossed Sam's face. "It was so worth it, dude. I didn't even like sitting up front with Dad. The whole point was that you had to stay in the back."

Funny how in the most dire of times the memories of being on the road in their pitiful childhood could lighten the situation, Dean thought, cracking a smile himself.

* * *

 **Season 11, after - Dean 37, Sam 33**

"Shit!"

Dean's yell was what woke Sam up. He sat up quickly, blinking in surprise at the hissing black dog that was snarling at them. And not just a black dog, as in a black canine, but as in the monster black dog, Sam realized.

Hunting wasn't fun, but there were times that Sam felt eternally grateful that they'd been raised as hunters. If they hadn't, Dean would be a pile of shredded skin and guts, instead of wielding the silver knife that was tucked under his pillow at the foaming monster.

"How'd it get in?" Dean yelled at Sam.

Sam didn't answer; he was lunging towards his own duffel bag to grab his knife. The black dog whirled around and snapped at him, nearly taking a chunk out of his arm.

"Hey, Cujo!" Dean yelled, backing towards the window in the rear of the motel room. Sam immediately knew what his brother was trying to do. Black dogs weren't very agile, but could run fast, and if Dean dived out of the way at the last second, they could get the creature to crash into the wall.

The black dog turned towards Dean's voice and charged, as expected, but leaped at the last second and crashed through the window and straight into the gated pool area, which was lying directly in front of the window.

They pursued the dog, climbing through the window themselves - the glass had completely shattered and was on the ground - and landed hard on the cement surrounding the pool.

"You take the left," Dean directed, and Sam obeyed instantly, creeping on the other side of the dog.

Without warning Dean tackled the dog and thrust his knife into its thick hide. The creature cried out in agony, running blindly away and right into Sam, who was caught in the path of its lumbering body. All three of them went into the pool with an enormous splash.

Sam gripped his knife and stabbed the black dog again, because it was still writhing, and this time the monster went down for good. It went limp, bubblings coming out of its snout.

Sam surfaced, panting, along with Dean.

"What the hell!" Dean burst out, looking at the dead creature. "If we're not on a hunt, the hunt finds us. I swear, the next time that the world isn't trying to break itself, _we_ are taking a damn vacation!"

He said the words so angrily that Sam nearly smiled.

"We should probably get out of here," he said instead. "That wasn't exactly quiet."

They both went back into the motel through the broken window and threw their things into their duffel bags. Dean started the Impala, while groaning about how they were going to drip chlorine all over his Baby's seats, and they took off before anyone found the giant black dog floating dead in the pool.

That'd be a good one for the local legends, Sam thought wryly, as Dean pushed an AC/DC cassette in.

* * *

 **Speculation for season 14 - Dean 40, Sam 36**

The frigid early morning water felt like knives digging into Sam's skin but he continued to swim nevertheless. It cleared his head, helped him to think. Helped him to decide what the next course of action would be since he'd failed so far in getting his brother back.

The sun hadn't even hit the water of the pool yet, it was so early. The town he was staying in was dead silent with sleep; only the birds were chirping. There was a church right next to the motel and the rays of sunlight hit the colored glass beautifully, shining in the glowing light.

Sam had tried everything, from summoning spells to selling his soul. No demon could interfere with the archangel. He'd contacted every last hunter in both John's and Bobby's old address books. No one else had any idea of what to do.

Two weeks ago he'd left the bunker. Jack and Cas had let him go; they were busy poring over every Men of Letter archive.

Sam had even tried to get in touch with Billie - well, Death. To his surprise, she'd appeared, but insisted that she couldn't meddle in the affairs of fate.

He'd prayed to Chuck every night in hopes that after all they had been through, there would be some sort of answer. He'd gotten nothing.

And last night he'd finally found Dean. But it wasn't Dean, it was Michael. He'd tracked him to a monastery and tried to evict Michael from Dean with a Men of Letters spell that Cas had found. It had done nothing but make Michael laugh.

And then he had vanished, and all of the leads Sam had gathered were useless.

Sam stopped swimming and waded to the edge of the shallow end, breathing deeply. For two months now he'd been working nonstop to get Dean back. He couldn't remember the last time that he'd slept more than six hours in one night; in fact, his sleeping was so erratic that he'd almost crashed the car the other day, falling asleep with no warning at all.

Eating was the same. Cas had made sure Sam ate at least one to two times a day back at the bunker, but now that Sam was alone, there was no point in stopping to eat meals. He couldn't waste time, not time that he knew Dean was out there. The only reason he ate at all was so that he'd have the strength to continue looking for his brother.

But last night, he'd be _so damn close_. His brother had been within twenty feet of him, and Sam had blew it. Michael was who-knows-where now, without one single lead. All of the work of the past two months - gone.

Before he knew what he was doing Sam had thrown his fist down into the hard, rough cement of the edge of the pool. Again he pounded his fist down, taking all of his anger out through the pain that shook through his bones and skin. He punched it again and a knuckle cracked under the force.

Hot tears that he hadn't let spill once in the past two months came now. They dripped into the pool, mingling with the scarlet blood that was now pouring out of his knuckles. Sam gripped his bloody hand hard and bit his lip, more tears flowing freely.

The sound of the church bells made him flinch. They struck once, twice, and a total of six times, echoing into the peaceful air.

That was when Sam did a double take.

He hardly knew what town he was in, but the motel seemed vaguely familiar. The sound of the bells ringing stirred a memory deep down that he'd forgotten, and hadn't thought about in years.

He and Dean had swam with these church bells before, many years ago.

And that diving board, at the edge of the pool. Sam's eyes were drawn to it, as though it were a beacon of light, and he swam over to it.

The air was so still now that he could have heard a pin drop. He gripped the edge of the diving board and went underneath it, looking up at the bottom of it.

Faded and scratched into the board were the rough initials SW and DW. Sam traced his hand over the DW, remembering suddenly, vividly, that night that they'd swam at midnight. Dean had helped him carve his initials into the bottom of the board.

A new surge of hot tears flooded into his eyes but this time he was smiling. Smiling at the mark he and his brother had left so many years ago, back when it was just them and their dad on the road, hunting evil little by little and saving people when they could.

The rays of sunlight reached the edge of the pool and sent blinding, shimmering diamonds across the surface. Sam climbed out of the pool, clutching his bleeding hand.

He wouldn't give up. After all, Michael was still out there, and so was his brother. People didn't just disappear; other people stopped looking for them.

And Sam was never going to give up searching for Dean.

 **A/N:** Thank you so much for reading! I'd be so grateful for any reviews letting me know what you thought :)


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